Death of a Plumber
by JH Sounds
Summary: As Luigi recalls the aftermath of his father's passing, he and Mario search through their past in an effort to discover the family's hidden secrets.
1. The Passing

**DEATH OF A PLUMBER**

_Note: This story takes place right after "Plumb Skulls", my other Mario fic._

**Chapter One: The Passing.**

I couldn't really remember the exact weather conditions on the day we learned our dad had died. Balmy perhaps. It was funny though, since the rest of the day's events are still perfectly clear in my mind.

We had just undergone a mistrial at the hands of the honorable Judge K. Koopa due to the tampering of evidence -- specifically, a plunger and a pair of extremely large glasses -- and the last thing we had ever expected to endure was a death in the family right after the proceedings.

We were given a specially-lined phone that tapped back into the mainland, which was quite unusual for a courthouse. It was then when the news came, that Papa had passed due to old age. I'll never forget the look on Brother's face as he was given the startling news.

Mario and I were, quite simply, stunned. We had been raised and taught by our father, and the tools he had given us were still attached to our belts. To us, he was invincible. Why did he have to leave us now?

I sat, gently squeezing my green cap in my hands. It was our father who designed the L and M on our clothing, much to the dismay of my brother. To him, it felt like he was carrying Papa's name, which he really did not want to do. He had always thought of himself as his an inferior successor.

Papa was our role model. We did everything like he used to do: hop over obstacles, climb to high places, and collect coins. We the money we'd earned, Brother and I went into business and became the Super Mario Bros. we are today.

Having received the chilling phone call, we promptly entered our prepaid taxi and made our way into the darkened streets of the night. Awkwardness soon turned to gloominess, and Mario and I refused to talk to each other until after the service.

---

"We are gathered together on this somber day to witness the final resting of Mario Varnis Mario, local plumber, hero, and friend. Some say he was more skilled in saving damsels than unclogging sinks, but he was always the heroic figure in the eyes of those who looked up to him. He had his trademark mallet, which he'd obviously passed down his first son, but his ability went beyond any simple tool or item. His knowledge was his best asset, and that is quite simply why we are here today."

The crowd acknowledged Peach's hastily prepared eulogy, and it was finally time to lower Papa into his place of eternal rest.

---

As we returned to the limousine, Brother and I were once again locked in silence, and nothing would break it, even as we made our way toward the Princess' secluded property.

The car had chugged its way over the cobblestone bridge and across the moat into the castle. We could see the pennant flags were already at half-staff as the vehicle swept under the archway, and the servants' eyes focused solely on the marble floor as they saw us.

We stepped out and greeted a visibly disconcerted Princess Toadstool at the grand foyer, which seemed to have been darkened out to suit the troubling mood. She too refused to speak, and instead gestured us into the dining room for a solemn dinner.

The servants apparently chose their least colorful food for us, reflecting the emotions we were going though. I supposed this was a challenge for the caterers, since their trademark was to make their meals as bright as possible. So, unfortunately, the only digs at the table were burnt mushrooms, toasted bread, and dry leaves.

Before we could eat, the group had an impromptu moment of silence. It wasn't so bad, except that it lasted 30 minutes. Perhaps it would have lasted even longer, if it hadn't been for Mario's sudden sneeze, breaking the concentration.

After that ordeal, we had been invited to sleep over until we could get over our uneasiness. We agreed, and were given the darkest rooms in the murkiest part of the castle -- to be appropriate for the situation, of course. The two of us couldn't bear to see our tool belts hanging near the beds, so we stuffed them out of sight, in the adjoining guest closets.

I watched myself in the mirror. _So this is it. Mortality._ I picked up a pair of scissors. _Maybe I should trim this moustache -- make it stylish, neater._

_What am I saying? _I tossed the blades into the sink.

Later, I decided to lay in the bed, though I knew I wouldn't get a blink of sleep.

At that point, I had forgotten whether I had actually begun to dream, of if I had stayed awake; Strange shapes emerged from the ceiling, and swirling starbursts of color made their way across the walls.

But then, if just for a moment, I could swear I saw someone's face.

Papa?


	2. The Friend

**Chapter Two: The Friend.**

Bleary-eyed, I sat up in bed the next morning, staring at the sunlight that attacked my face. _Where'd that come from_? I instinctively reached for my belt, forgetting I had stashed it elsewhere. Rolling onto my back, I suddenly noticed a servant at the door looking at me with mild interest.

"There is someone on the phone for you sir," he chirped.

"Well, who in Merry Toadland is it?" I grogged impatiently.

"Cranky?"

"Why yes I am," I rubbed my eye sockets dry.

"Er... no, sir," said the servant. "The one waiting on the line is Cranky, sir. Cranky Kong."

I bolted upward, not realizing I hadn't any pants. "Why didn't you say so!" I jumped into my coveralls and dashed off into the hallway.

"Sir, it's the other way for the phones."

"Oh..." I turned around and went the right way.

Mario had already gotten a chance to speak with aged gorilla, an old friend of the family. The call was long-distance, to say the least, but Peach would take care of the bill. So I promptly spoke into the receiver. "Yes?"

"Is this Luigi?"

"Yep."

"Well, good!" he spat. "I just heard that your father died, and I wanted to give you my, er, condolences, and stuff."

"All right."

An awkward pause.

"That it?" I asked.

"Oh, erm..." Cranky's voice cracked. "I've told your brother about the tape of your father that was left with me -- his last will and testament. You'll have to come over and view it with us."

"I understand." I was ready to hang up.

"Suppose that's all," said the ape. "Goodbye, now."

"Goodbye"?

Since when did Cranky speak like this?

---

"My name isn't Cranky!" he howled. "That's just a stupid thing my son and his friends called me when they were toddlers." He limped his way over to the far wall. "My name is Donkey Kong -- the original and best!"

Mario and I had taken Peach's private jet over to the DK Isles, discovering the ape's treehouse deep in the lush junglescape with the help of a guide.

"So, your son is actually Donkey Kong Junior?" I asked.

"Yes!" he said. "What's so confusing about that?"

My brother and I kept our comments to ourselves.

The jungle guide spoke up. "Er, Mister Donkey, sir? If I may ask, why was the video will left in your possession?"

The ape smacked the tip of his cane on the guide's mushroom cap. "Silly, silly. It was given to me by their mother."

"But why you?" he asked, afraid to get hit again.

An odd sort of noise left Cranky's lips, and he began his story:

"A long -- but not _too_ long -- time ago, the father of these two boys and I had a... shall we say, 'scuffle'. I was in the prime of my adolescence, and adrenaline flowed through me like a roaring river. Sure, I was cocky then, thought I could do anything I wanted. You could say I was an _animal_... in a manner of speaking. I had also been experimenting with several different _banana powders_ -- but I'd rather not get into that.

So, anyway... In a confused rage, I kidnapped a defenseless young woman and took her to the highest skyscraper that happened to be under construction. In my chemically impaired state, I tossed barrels at anyone who'd try to climb after me.

The police were baffled. How exactly _do_ you get an overgrown, muscle-bound gorilla down from a building without harming the civilian taken hostage? People were naturally afraid to try anything, but one had gotten the courage to _act_.

An athletic young plumber who had been given the nickname 'Jumpman' got into gear and dodged those barrels. I hopped from building to building, yet he still had the strength and agility to catch up with me. It was only when he had loosened the girders from under my feet that I gave up the girl.

Naturally, she was smitten by her rescuer. As I was sent back to the local zoo with my parents, young Pauline did her best to try and repay him, though she knew she couldn't, so the next best thing was to fall in love and have a baby or two.

So, _now_ do you understand? Pauline was your mother."

We stared. The three of us weren't quite sure what to say; we grew up never knowing what happened to our mother, or if she was still alive.

"I knew more about your mother than even your father did," added Cranky.

Mario and I had never seen the ape so dreary and mortal before. It was clear that Papa's death affected him as much as it did us.

With a tilt of his head, he reached behind a miniature barrel featuring the DK logo in bright letters and pulled out a video. Letting out a defeated sigh, he slid the VHS tape into the machine, and the monitor flickered on.

"Hello," spoke a painfully familiar voice. "If you're seeing this for the first time, that can only mean one thing."

The pause was excruciating.

"So then, onto the legal stuff..."


	3. The Video

**Chapter Three: The Video.**

We sat in closely as our father began his testament. His pleasant face brought a warmth throughout the musty hut as we listened intently for his words. Maybe it was the radiation of the set, or his whistly voice, but something gave us the distinct feeling that he was standing right there, before us.

"To my oldest son, I leave my collection of coins I have amassed in my many adventures. May their shinyness fill you with joy."

Mario sat, frozen in place. _The entire collection_? He must have thought. Mind you, it wasn't much after the currency exchange, but maintaining and managing such a large amount of coins would be a nightmare. Just hauling that stuff over to his place would be a hassle.

"I also leave him all my old uniforms," continued Papa.

This was what Brother had feared. To strap on someone else's clothes was to continue in their footsteps, to complete their legacy. Was he ready for this? Could he handle the dry cleaning expenses?

The video resumed. "To my youngest son, I give my kart garage and repair shop."

I smiled. Even in his old age, Papa tuned up the vehicles before every Grand Prix. It wasn't a surprise that he had left the place to me, since he taught me to carry on the business. But now that he was gone, I could probably get around to adding some seatbelts on the forsaken things.

"Along with this, I pass on the tennis courts, golf clubs, and Hotel deed."

A smart person could guess what I would do with those.

Papa went on. "To Toad, I-"

_Toad_?

"Hold on, stop the tape!" Mario said. "Toad isn't here, and he really should be a witness to this."

"That's all right," said the jungle guide. "I'm his cousin."

Cranky ran a finger through his woolly beard. "Oh? Hmm... I suppose a relative to the one receiving an heirloom is enough of a witness."

The tape was rewound, then un-paused. "To Toad, I leave my priceless porcelain Yoshi eggs. Remember to keep them at a low, secure place."

"I'll be sure to give Toad the message," said the guide.

"Now," said Papa, "What was the other thing? Oh yes: I leave my cash and all the rest of the Mario fortune to..."

"Yes?" said Mario, as if he were right there.

"To..."

"Come on now!" yelled Cranky, frantically hopping on one foot.

The video image began to distort and bend, making the message unclear. The ape attempted to fix this by slapping the side of the monitor with his cane. Surprisingly, it didn't work.

Smartly, Mario ejected the tape, shook it around a lot, then reinserted it. This time, the monitor blinked gray, then black, in a repeating cycle.

"Darn it!" said the guide, then climbed to the top of the device, and jumped on it. His idea actually worked a little.

The image jittered. "For-fortune to..."

We finally received the gratifying answer. "The lady Pauline, my love."

The guide fell off the monitor like a log, losing his footing after being momentarily dazed.

Our _mother_? _Pauline_? "Who _knows_ where she might be now?" I spoke aloud, no longer able to hold it in.

"I believe that would be me," said Cranky simply.

My jaw instantly dropped. "Are you telling me that all this time you _knew_ who our mother was _and_ where to find her?"

"Not exactly," said the gorilla. "I received a tip a few weeks before your father passed, concerning her whereabouts. Unfortunately, the details aren't exact."

"Well?"said Mario, speaking with utter indignation. "What _were_ they?"

"Most of it mentioned a bit about the inner city - the commercial district, if I remember correctly. But there was also something about an item that was shipped to the same area..."

Brother definitely looked confused. "What do you mean?"

DK waved his cane up and down for effect. "I _mean_ there was _supposed_ to be a package delivered to one of you two, but my son may have mislabeled it and sent it over there by mistake."

"But what's inside the package?" asked the guide, finally getting to his feet.

Papa's voice suddenly came back on the set. "Erm, I think I'm running out of room here, so I'll switch over to tape two."

Cranky pointed his cane at the screen. "_That_ would be it." He then stabbed his cane sharply on the ground to heighten the tension. "If there's any more info on how to find Pauline, it would be on that second tape."

I was dumbfounded. A _second tape_? How much did Papa have to say?

The ape reached behind the ornate barrel once again, this time revealing a small, messy map written on a scrap of parchment. "Just follow these directions. They should get you within a one-mile radius."

Just what we wanted to hear.


	4. Business

**Chapter Four: Business.**

"What is it?" spoke a highly compressed voice.

The first stop on our wild goose hunt took us smack-dab in the middle of New Koop City, and in the midst of all the skyscrapers we were somehow able pinpoint where the package might have gone. The building, sealed tightly with only an intercom for intercommunication, was labeled _12 Ware Place_.

"Is this the game-testing studio?" asked Brother, speaking into the mic.

"Who wants to know?" the speaker shot back.

"Mario and Luigi," said the guide, trying to help.

"Oh?" came the warbling message. "Why didn't you say so?" A harsh buzzing burst out from the speaker, unlocking the front entrance. "Come in."

Awkwardly, we stepped into the lobby, where two Koopa guards stood before a huge vault. As we walked up to it, the tightly bolted door sprang open.

"Oh... it's just you," spoke Wario, standing inside. "I thought you folks brought a pizza."

A sudden, violent din erupted from the inside of the vault.

"Sorry about that," said Wario, hopping over several outstretched wires. "Just testing the new microgames with the beta group."

Three rapid CONK sounds fired in succession.

"Knock it off over there!" he yelled. The noise finally settled.

I was the first of the three to speak. "If you don't mind me asking, have you ever received any sort of _package_ in the last few days?"

Wario took off his helmet, scratching at his toupée. "Well, I'm constantly getting new games to test..."

"_Besides_ that," I said. "Anything else?"

"Not anything of _value_," he said, "or I woulda pawned it." Wario gestured with his shoulder. "Come in, I guess."

Quickly maneuvering around the cables, Mario, the guide and I stepped into the grand testing room. Stretching into the horizon were countless gaming sets, with Koopas trying their best to discover the kinks in the various systems.

I could barely make out what kinds of games they were; some appeared to be nose-picking simulators, others were a breakdown of how to serve a sausage, and yet another apparently instructed on how to catch a sliding cup as it passed by. "These games are horribly simplistic," I noted.

"Sure!" said Wario. "The cheaper they are to make, the more I get in profits!"

Mario shook his head. "But folks won't buy them if they're all _crap_."

"_Course_ they will," he insisted. "When I get my buddies in the magazine business to hype the things up, the kids'll go crazy for 'em!" He grinned brightly, baring his garish teeth. "Just one good looking ad in _Game Informant_ and we'll sell half of our stock supply on _day one_!"

"Pfft," scoffed Mario. "I doubt people would buy a game solely on how shiny the ads were."

"I would!" said the guide, nodding his head vigorously.

My eyes rolled. "Can we get on with this, now?"

"Oh, right..." Wario realized.

The four of us sauntered over to the mail room where we were greeted by another largetastic group of worker Koopas.

"Hey, y'all!" Wario called out to them. "Have any of you seen a VHS tape around?"

One of the Koopas raised his hand. "Sir? What exactly _is_ a VHS tape?"

His eyes widened after hearing those words. "WHAAT?" he yelled with his arms outstretched. "You don't even know what that _is_?"

I tapped Wario's shoulder. "Er, hello? I think they might be a little too young to remember those, but--" I turned to the group-- "It's a rectangle shape, with two spools inside."

One of the workers in the back stood up. "Oh, I think I have it right here."

Mario and the guide rushed over to the Koopa, staring at a package he had in his hands. "Hmm?" said Brother. "It's addressed to Wario!"

I caught up with them and examined the wrapped package. "There's a bit of writing here." I brushed the caked residue off of the small text over the word WARIO.

The guide gaped at what he saw. Mario backed away several steps, and Wario's jagged moustache straightened out slightly.

The words above WARIO were '_To My Oldest Son_'.

"That _can't_ be right," I said. "Wario is certainly not young enough to be a son of _Papa_... Heck, you aren't even related to us at _all_."

"Oh, you had to bring _that_ up," spoke Wario. "The settlement wasn't enough for you all, huh?"

"Settlement?" said the guide.

I tried to explain. "A few years back, Papa and him were rivals. Most of that came out of the fact that Wario's name just happens to sound like..." I stopped, and looked back to the package.

"...Mario," completed the guide. Now that we all peered at it, we could see that the W did look a little like an M.

Then I remembered what Cranky said earlier. "It must have been mislabeled."

"Oh, I get it," said Mario. "The tape was addressed to _me_. '_To my oldest son, MARIO_'."

"Ah," I said, understanding. "Now that we have _that_ resolved, let's open it up and see what's on the tape."

Wario smiled again. "_That's_ the ticket..."


	5. The Trinket

**Chapter Five: The Trinket.**

I was beginning to think it wasn't worth it. Following meaningless clues in the hopes of finding our mother? It all just seemed pathetically sad, and it was hard not to think about it as we marched our way into a tight little room in the corner.

"I don't usually do this," uttered the security Koopa from inside the booth. "But if the boss says it's okay..."

"Of course it is!" spoke Wario. "These guys are cool. We go golfing every season, right?"

Mario and I nodded.

"All right, come in then," said the Koopa. As we entered, we quickly noticed the surveillance booth was filled from top to bottom with monitors, each with its focus on a separate part of the building. I could see a turtle in punk garb kicking away at a garbage container, and at another screen a rifle owner firing was away at clay saucers.

Wario reached into equipment drawer, taking out a dusty tape player and plugging it into one of the sets. "Pass the tape over, will ya?"

I carefully tore off the badly wrapped package and handed it over.

Right from the off, Papa's tone had changed. We couldn't help but wonder what had happened between the two recordings that caused him to be so distraught. Did he know how close to death he really was?

"In the past," he spoke, "there may have been some quarrels between Wario's family and I. This isn't to say that he and I never agreed, but for the most part we were adversaries. His vile, unrelenting greed eventually drove us apart."

The yellow-clad entrepreneur had somehow gotten a hold of some Peanut Brittle and was munching it with zest as he watched. "...What?" he said as everyone stared at him.

Papa went on. "But enough about him. I want to make sure and make a clear point about this." He straightened up from whatever he was sitting on. "My oldest son, I pass on a personal heirloom that has been enclosed in the package."

I lifted the brim of my cap slightly, scratching my forehead. "Huh? There's only the cassette inside." I looked around and inside the discarded scrap of paper. "Did anyone open this before me?"

"Probably," answered Wario. "It's just a security measure. You can never be too safe these days."

"Then we'll go ask all of the Koopas," suggested Brother. "Maybe one of them took it."

"Maybe," I said, still pondering. "But _maybe_..." I glared at Wario again.

"But maybe _what_?" he asked innocently.

"Perhaps someone may have _pawned it_?" I asked with an obvious tilt of my head.

Wario gave a laugh. "Heh, you think I was serious when I said that?" He looked nervously at the four of us. "I was kidding, folks! Honestly..."

The security Koopa seemed to think otherwise. "Um, sir? Isn't this _you_?" He directed our attention to previously taped video footage of something yellow and bloated ripping away at a basket filled with unopened parcels.

"Didn't I tell you to _erase_ that?" asked Wario, his cover blown.

"Actually, you didn't," spoke the Koopa, seemingly oblivious.

"Aw, geez," he realized. "I forgot - all you guys look alike."

I was thoroughly peeved at this point. "If you could just show us to that heirloom now..."

x x x

"What sort of heirloom was it?" spoke the rat.

Not wanting to waste a coin, Wario had sent the trinket to the sleaziest pawn shop in the relatively nearby Island of Hags. The storekeeper kept his eye on the three of us as he spoke within his newly erected plexiglass divider. Apparently worried that we would ambush him, he continuously patted an object that he kept out of view. I had no question as to what it was.

"That's the problem," said Mario. "We only know that it's supposed to have been passed down from our father, and that it was pawned here."

"That certainly makes it easier for me," replied Pawno with a heavy air of impatience. "Look, I don't have time to go looking around for this alleged heirloom thing. I hardly even have time to collect all twenty-four masks in this game I got here." The rat briefly showed us the golden cartridge.

"Really?" said the Guide with a sharp squeak in his voice. "I was done with that part ages ago."

"Oh yeah? Then how do I get the Fairy Mask?"

"Just bring the stray to the Great Fairy again."

Pawno said nothing.

But it was that Game Pak that sparked an idea. "Wait a minute! I think I know what the heirloom was." I shoved a hand into my chest pocket, retrieving an old, warped photograph of Papa as a young man. "See? Look at this!"

Brother and the guide leaned in tightly and I placed the darkened photo under a nearby lamp. I had forgotten how strong Papa's genes were in Mario - you could almost mistake the person in the picture for Brother himself. But what suddenly made the shot intriguing was the object hanging from his neck.

"Bowser's golden locket," I muttered in a nervous whisper.


End file.
